


Challenge

by Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Donald is a good brother, Ducktales Secret Santa 2019, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste/pseuds/Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste
Summary: Donald didn’t really know what to do with his sister’s muffled mutterings through their shared wall. It wasn’t unusual. She mumbled and muttered and ranted to herself all the time, typically poring over maps, planning their next adventure, or lamenting her chaotic love life. For a mansion belonging to the richest duck in the world, the walls were absurdly thin.So it wasn’t the fact that she was doing it that bothered him. It was her voice. She sounded scared. And Della Duck did not scare easily.Secret Santa for Dazzling-Duck on tumblr!
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck
Comments: 5
Kudos: 110





	Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> This is my secret santa gift for Dazzling-Duck on tumblr, who listed both Donald and Della as some of their favorite characters! I spent weeks trying to force a fic out, and then last night this thing happened and I had an entire draft done in like two hours. Spent this morning editing it and adding a bunch. Happy holidays, everyone!

Donald didn’t really know what to do with his sister’s muffled mutterings through their shared wall. It wasn’t unusual. She mumbled and muttered and ranted to herself all the time, typically poring over maps, planning their next adventure, or lamenting her chaotic love life. For a mansion belonging to the richest duck in the world, the walls were absurdly thin.

So it wasn’t the fact that she was doing it that bothered him. It was her voice. She sounded scared. And Della Duck did  _ not  _ scare easily.

_ “You got this, Della. Don’t freak out. You don’t even know yet. It could be nothing.” _

Lying on his bed listening to his sister’s terrified ramblings, Donald felt conflicted. On the one hand, Della hadn’t come to him, so she obviously didn’t want him to know. On the other hand, this was his  _ sister _ . His twin. His best friend. Whatever was going on with her, he wanted,  _ needed _ , to be there for her.

For now, Donald waited. Whether for her to calm down or for her to come to him, he didn’t know. He hated waiting. He was a man of action. Waiting made him vibrate out of his feathers. But barging in on Della wasn’t going to help.

So he listened to her pacing, her hyping herself up, her singing random melodies to her own name. Then suddenly, she stopped, and Donald waited through the silence.

He stopped waiting when she started crying.

Powered by his protective brotherly instincts, he was at her door in a second. He probably had smoke rising behind him, but he’d deal with that if Uncle Scrooge noticed. For now, his sister needed him.

The sound of Della crying made him want to kick the door in, but he did his best to rein that in. If he did that, she’d lose her temper, which would make him lose  _ his  _ temper, and then they’d both be yelling at each other, and then Uncle Scrooge would tell them to be quiet, then  _ he  _ would either end up roped into the fight or go into full Dad Mode and send them to opposite sides of the manor.

So no. Kicking the door down wasn’t the way to go.

Instead, he knocked. Her crying stopped.

“Della?” he called, gently.

It stayed quiet for a bit. Donald had another brief desire to tear the door from its hinges, but he kept that internal. He knew she wouldn’t ignore him. She’d either let him in, or tell him to go away. If that happened, he’d just stay until she got so annoyed she let him in.

But instead, he heard a quiet, “Door’s open.”

_ ‘Okay,’ _ he thought.  _ ‘She’s not putting up a fight. Is this good or bad?’ _

So he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

Della was sitting on her bed in her flannel pajamas, her normally straight as cornsilk hair a ratsnest, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her eyes reflected the fear he’d heard in her voice.

“You okay?” he quacked, awkwardly. Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t.

Della didn’t seem to care. She shrugged.

“I... don’t know. I have no idea.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Do I need to kill someone?”

Della let out a small laugh. “Uncle Scrooge would never pay for your lawyer.”

Donald smiled. The laugh was a good sign. That meant things weren’t  _ too  _ dire.

He sat down next to her on the bed, and she leaned into him almost immediately. That got him worried again.

“I don’t know if this is good or bad,” she explained, voice small. Donald hated hearing his boisterous sister like this. What was going  _ on _ ?

Della sat up, then, taking a deep breath.

“Okay... okay....” she breathed. “Out with it. I can do this. I mean, people have to say this all the time, and a lot of them are a lot worse off than me.”

The gears started turning in Donald’s head as Della’s muffled words gained a new clarity.

_ ‘You don’t even know yet. It could be nothing.’ _

“Wait...” he said. “Are you...?”

Della laughed without humor. “Yup! Just took the test! Two pink lines!” She threw up her hands in defeat. “Gonna have a kid, I guess!”

Without warning, Della just... burst out laughing.

Donald didn’t say anything. He didn’t really know how to react. Della seemed a tad... hysterical, but she didn’t seem devastated, which told him a lot more than her unhinged laughter did.

“What?” she asked, through her laughter.. “No lecture about responsibility? No temper tantrum?”

“I... don’t want to fight with you.”

Della groaned and stood up. “Well I’d kinda love to fight, because then I wouldn’t have to think about the fact that I, Della Duck, am going to be responsible for raising a tiny duckling! Heck, with our family history, probably more than one! Oh god, I’m going to have  _ more than one _ ! I’m going to screw up multiple teenie tiny lives!”

It was then that Donald decided to change tactics.

“Yeah,” he said, thoughtfully. “You’re probably right.”

Della went deathly quiet. “ _ What _ did you say?”

Donald shrugged. “You’re a lot of things, Della, but you’re not  _ mother  _ material.”

Donald watched as that vein in her forehead started to pulse.

“It’s too much for you to handle, Dumbella.”

And then Della exploded.

“Now see here you squawking scoundrel!” she shouted. “I am  _ Della Duck _ ! I can do  _ anything _ ! I flew us through Hurricane Starling, I defeated the Gilded Man when I was  _ ten _ , and I’ve saved  _ your  _ sorry butt more times than either of us can count! Not only will I be a good mom, I will be the best mother  _ ever _ !”

“Oh yeah?!” Donald cried, standing up and getting right in her face.

“Yeah!”

“Then  _ prove it _ !”

“I  _ will _ !”

Donald folded his arms and smirked. “Good.”

Della blinked, hands still clenched and posture ready for a fight. She stared at him for a moment, breathing coming in huffs, as her body relaxed and straightened.

“You...” she said, breathlessly. Donald gave her a warm smile.

“And I’ll try to be the best  _ uncle  _ ever.”

Something in Della shifted. All traces of anger drained out of her, his words getting through to her.

“Duck Twins don’t back down,” he said.  _ ‘You won’t be doing this alone.’ _

Finally, Della smiled.

“I’m gonna be a  _ mom _ ,” she breathed.

Donald broke out into a grin. “Congrats, Della.”

Letting out a squee of delight, she threw herself into her brother’s arms, nearly strangling him as she hugged him. He hugged her right back, but far more gently, not wanting to harm the eggs.

“So when are you telling Uncle Scrooge?” he squawked.

Della froze.

“I was thinking after they hatch? You know how much of a sucker he is for little kids, he -”

“ _ Della _ !”

**Author's Note:**

> I went out of my way to not say the word "gravid" because it makes me think of snakes. I work at a pet store.


End file.
